ï jûšt wåñtēd...____________________________________________
username ;;
LOCW_Bluestarwarrior
name ;;
Kova Spokso
Roughly translated as 'fighting stare' in Lithuanian.gender ;;
Female
She, Her, Hers pronouns____________________________________________
tø mäkę ÿōú...story ;;
Kova had worked for months. To this day, she had no idea how she did it, only that she had somehow created a ‘lightsaber.’ She remembers shakily clicking the button, seeing the blue blade extend. It didn’t look exactly like it did in the movies; she didn’t have any sort of Force crystal, of course. No, she had amplified a laser and somehow constrained it to a certain length.
Her best achievement. She had
done it.
With a shaky laugh she had dashed out to go find her brother.
“Luxo!” she had called. Her twin had run up to her, grinning.
“How’s the inventing coming, sis?” he’d asked, lifting his dark sunglasses to inspect the weapon she held in her paw. “Woah is it done?”
Kova nodded and Luxo grinned, showing off small sharp teeth.
Looking back, the next choice they made was unbearably stupid. So, so stupid. Kova would curse herself forever because of it.
They wanted to have a duel. Luxo chose a thick steel beam and Kova wielded her newly made saber.
“You get a turn next,” she promised him. “It’s your birthday present after all.” Their birthday was the next day, and she wondered what he had made for her in return.
“Wahoo!” was Luxo’s response as they got into position. They did this all the time, though never with real weapons. And they’d gotten good at it too; it had taken years, but now they could fight and never even land a touch on each other.
What happened next was unavoidable. It all happened so fast. The first time Luxo had tried to counter Kova’s attack, the saber had sliced right through the steel… And right into him. He’d screamed and Kova had mirrored the cry, dropping the saber.
She’d called an ambulance and he’d gone to the hospital.
It wasn’t enough.
Kova was left, on her birthday, in the empty room they shared, cradling the invention that had caused all that heartbreak in her paws.
“I… I just wanted to make you something beautiful,” she whispered to the empty space and the weapon before her.
***
She always wondered what his present to her would have been. She wouldn’t have deserved it, as she thought back to that date. Crippling guilt was her world.
Then resolve had set in.
For all the years afterward, she would continue to practice her fighting skills, but she never used any sort of real weapon in combat again. Only wooden staffs that she carried strapped to her back.
But that lightsaber, that laser sword of her own invention, was always clipped to the belt she wore. For her, it was a reminder of her dear brother. And a warning to her and others not to make stupid, rash decisions.
She kept it for one other reason; she didn’t want it to fall into any other hands and cause the wielder as much pain as it had caused her.
Thus she named her weapon:
‘Sirdgela’
…
‘heartbreak.’śõmêthįńg
βēåüτîfùl.